


Catoptromancy

by RadiantSeraphina (Lady_Arrowwood)



Category: Kirby (Video Games), Kirby - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Gen
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-04-28
Updated: 2017-04-28
Packaged: 2018-10-25 03:16:31
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 760
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10755612
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lady_Arrowwood/pseuds/RadiantSeraphina
Summary: Amazing Mirror/Triple Deluxe AU. Ten years after killing Dreamland's best knight (or so he thinks), Kirby settles into his role as Dreamland's primary defender, and trying to fill Meta Knight's space is far more difficult than Kirby could've possibly imagined.Meanwhile, Queen Sectonia is given the gift of a mirror shard for her coronation. It might've just remained a nice gift, that is, if the mirror shard hadn't started talking.





	Catoptromancy

**Author's Note:**

> I'm in the process of posting all the random fics I have on my hard drive that I never posted for whatever reasons, and this was one of them.

_Once upon a time, there was a powerful star-child and a brave knight._

 

First, there was disbelief. Kirby couldn’t possibly have killed Meta Knight. It was all a mistake, some horrible nightmare, and Kirby would wake-up soon. He’d wake in beautiful Dreamland, and the _Halberd_ would be in the skies, instead of grounded, where she lay without her captain. But Kirby never woke-up.

 

Anger followed the disbelief. It was Meta Knight’s fault, really. Meta Knight changed the rules; he ambushed Kirby and didn’t even offer him a sword. Kirby still won, but it hadn’t been like their other duels. It hadn’t been _fun_. It was something twisted and sadistic, driven by Meta Knight’s desire to kill instead of the desire to fight. And the knight did _so_ love a good fight. Kirby did, too. And their fights worked. Why did Meta Knight have to change the game? Why couldn’t they keep doing their friendly fights, where the loser was victim to nothing more than gloating, a few bruises, and—in Meta Knight’s case—damaged armor? Of course, anger towards Meta Knight quickly turned inwards, and Kirby loathed himself. And Meta Knight. Even though Kirby wasn’t a hateful creature, it was easier to hate than to understand. He knew eventually that he’d backtrack and try to pinpoint some small place, where Meta Knight’s dark transformation began.

 

Sometimes, Kirby laughed about it. Everyone remembered Meta Knight’s attempted invasion of Dreamland, but the knight had changed. He’d grown to love the people of Dreamland, or Kirby thought he had. In hindsight, maybe Meta Knight had tricked them all. Maybe he’d never been anything more than a bloodthirsty thing, craving destruction. Maybe the chivalry was all an act. Maybe Kirby had imagined there to be good where there was none. Maybe after Meta Knight died, Kirby had built him into some sort of—of a _friend_.

 

After the anger, there was guilt. Sadness never appeared, and a dull numbness settled over Kirby. He didn’t know what Meta Knight _was_ anymore. Once, Kirby had asked. They hadn’t known each other well, and Kirby had caught the knight in a rare, idle moment. Kirby had danced on the tips of his feet, nervous. Kirby had no past. He’d lived in Pop Star and fended for himself for as long as he could remember. But _Meta Knight_. Meta Knight looked like him. Surely, being older, Meta Knight would know. “What are we?” Kirby had asked.

 

The knight had wrapped his cape around himself, his gold eyes enigmatic. “Who says that we’re the same thing?” Meta Knight had asked.

 

“I—I assumed. We look alike.”

 

Kirby leaned forward, and the knight took a wary step back. “Don’t,” Meta Knight warned.

 

Kirby slumped back, disheartened. He knew that if he pushed Meta Knight too hard, the knight would simply vanish into his cape, and Kirby wouldn’t get an answer. “I don’t know why this is so important to you,” Meta Knight said. “I am me, and you’re you.”

 

“But that isn’t enough, Meta Knight!”

 

Meta Knight let the cape fall around him before it twisted into his wings. “Why isn’t it?” he asked.

 

Suddenly, Kirby felt ridiculous and silly, but he’d come too far to give up. “I don’t want to feel alone,” he admitted. “I don’t know where I come from or what I am, and now I know you! You look just like me, and I want to know! Is it really that unreasonable?”

 

Meta Knight simply turned and walked away, the heels of his sabatons clicking loudly on the _Halberd_ ’s metal hull. Of course, Meta Knight wouldn’t understand. He didn’t need people like Kirby did. Then, abruptly, the knight halted and glanced back at Kirby. “Stardust,” he said.

 

“Stardust?” Kirby echoed.

 

Meta Knight nodded. “The last breaths of a dying star, or so I’ve heard.”

 

There was a note of finality in Meta Knight’s voice, and Kirby knew he wouldn’t be offered anything more. He wasn’t. Still, it was comforting later—just a little bit, just enough. And maybe someday Meta Knight would offer something more when Kirby had time to think and construct an argument for why the knight _should_ offer more. Now Kirby was out of time.

 

He saw the knight only in nightmares. Sometimes, it was the Meta Knight—before he’d changed. More often it wasn’t. Regardless, they always ended with a fight and Meta Knight’s death. But the sight and scent of blood wasn’t nearly as traumatic as what followed.

When Meta Knight died, he shattered like a piece of glass.


End file.
